


when the devil drives

by makiyakinabe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makiyakinabe/pseuds/makiyakinabe
Summary: A necromancer and a demon summoner, partaking in court—the mere thought was madness.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Island_of_Reil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Island_of_Reil/gifts).



If a clairvoyant had told Nevar the schoolboy that he was going to join the Great Hunt one day with Terrible Temer, he'd have laughed right in their face, consequences be damned.

He'd been stuck with Temer for the entirety of his stay at Academy Valente, the royal-sanctioned institute that all magical children were required to attend. They shared the same courses, the same rooms, and assignment partners—bound together by necessity, if nothing else: they were the only Dark boys in their year.

The day Nevar would go somewhere willingly with Temer would be the day of their graduation.

Yet here was Nevar, fresh out of his apprenticeship, shadowing Temer to the royal dais in front of which King Reinar stood waiting. Here was Nevar in his master's robe of midnight black and silver trim, his hood lowered and his bare head visible for all the eyes to see, getting down on one knee to pledge fealty to the King, the Great Hunt and Adamastor, the patron god of quests.

A necromancer and a demon summoner, partaking in court—the mere thought was madness. They may as well have painted bull's-eyes onto their backs.

Nevar was born without rose-tinted glasses. While his peers were playing fireworks in broad daylight or making lucky charms to barter for small favors, he sat behind closed doors and drawn curtains and listened to cautionary tales of the hundred ways that outsiders could hurt Dark little boys his age. All magical children were taught the ins and outs of the family business at their parents' knees, and if the subject of Nevar's study was all the bones of the human body and how each and every one of them could be made to do his bidding, well. Knowledge  _is_ power.

A jab in his ribs jostled Nevar out of his thoughts.

Nevar's eyes flicked to Temer in time to catch his arm move behind his back, his hand slipping into a black sleeve lined with red lace.

"Don't you nod off on me," said Temer out of the side of his mouth.

Nevar tamped down on his urge to sock the git in the jaw. Despite it being two years since they left the Academy, Nevar could hear the note of urgency belied by the other's annoyingly cheery voice. In all the time Nevar knew him, he'd never seen this side of Temer before.

And they _were_ in court. One misstep and not even Temer's stupidly infectious optimism could save him.

"Sorry." Nevar cleared his throat—his voice was hoarse with disuse—and, meeting King Reinar's eyes, reopened his mouth.

No sooner did Nevar finished his pledge than the minor demons that generally came part and parcel with Temer reveal themselves at once, grotesque imps with sallow skin and writhing snakes that perched or clung onto Temer's robe. As the screams that pierced the air mingled with the demons' malevolent sniggers, Nevar took in the triumphant look in Temer's eyes and wondered what he was getting himself into.


End file.
